Reality Quicksand
by BalrogsBreath
Summary: WIP : Harry Potter x Stargate SG1 AU It is 1987 and Voldemort has returned. Ahead of schedule and in full force, desperate measures must be taken by both sides in order to survive.
1. 01 Relocation

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Reality Quicksand

Chapter One - Relocation

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_A.N._

I do not own Harry Potter, Stargate, or Stargate SG-1.  
I do, however, take claim to the plot that combines the two - please don't copy it.

This story is **AU**, which means that it follows the ideas instilled in the Harry Potter books, but little things have been changed, such as the revival of Voldemort earlier in Harry's life.

This story will contain next to **no romance **of any sort, and will maintain a **PG-13 (or T) **rating with some violence and a few cuss words.

This will be a crossover between **Harry Potter **and **Stargate SG-1**. I had written this crossover earlier and this is a replacement for it (not a good work of writing, please don't read unless you are curious). Please note, though, that the plot has completely changed from my last crossover, and it is not a repost - simply a new and better story (hopefully).

Thank you.

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It was August the first at exactly four o'clock in the after noon that Severus Snape, the current potions master for Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry, collapsed in a dead faint. 

He had been walking with the school's headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore, quite passionately expressing his opinion on the ridiculous moral regulations surrounding the use of Veritaserum, when he stopped abruptly, eyes rolling backwards into his head, and proceeded to fall limply to the stone floor. Needless to say, the headmaster was quite shocked and even more alarmed at the turn of events. However, even more alarming then the sudden illness of a young, and relatively healthy man, was the image currently materializing on his arm.

Now sprawled on the floor, Severus Snape's robes had fallen into disarray and his pale arm shone oddly against his pitch black outer-robe. On said arm, the dusty outline of a skull was beginning to appear, and a swirling line that could be called a snake was being drawn through the mandible. Both were darkening by the second.

Albus Dumbledore was not a man to rush things, and not a man to panic, however this particular situation had his senses piled into a jumble. Voldemort had returned.

The year was 1987, and Harry Potter had just turned seven.

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Harold James Potter sat in his cupboard and watched a spider crawl lazily from one end of the slanted stair-ceiling to the other. He had always like spiders, they were a lot like him really, no one liked them and they tried their best not to be noticed. Usually, however, they failed and ended up balled up, bloody, and in a handkerchief. Again, not unlike himself.

Ever since he was little he had kept a small calendar in his closet - it was the same one he had had the last year (the Mormons had apparently found out that their promotional calendars were getting no congressional feedback and canceled their door to door give-a-ways) so the dates were slightly off, but he was pretty sure he was now seven years old as of last night.

Not that it mattered much, of course. The Dursley's would never buy him an elaborate cake like they always did for Dudley, nor would he get bombarded with lovingly wrapped gifts of every color, shape, and size. No, he would be lucky to avoid his usual chores. But the Dursley's were odd sometimes, and every once and a while they got strangely kind, though usually that wasn't until Halloween.

The spider had reached its destination and began to float gently downwards on its silk string. Harry envied it - if only he could move around so easily, maybe if he were like a spider he could go play like Dudley did when he was bored.

Harry was not normal - he never had been, and his aunt was always one to remind him of it - and he had an unusual love for reading. His grade school teacher always gave him a funny look when he asked to borrow books, and an even funnier look when he politely asked for him not to inform the Dursley's that he was doing it. He had spoken to the principle a few days later - something or other about family environments - but neither the principle nor Harry paid the man any mind.

The spider was nearly to the floor when Harry pulled out his most recent borrowed book. It was _A Children's Guide to Ancient Egypt_ and really quite good. The pictures were wonderful to look at, even if the poor light in his cupboard made them hard to see.

Then, just during his digestion of the Pyramids of Gaza, a shocking sound erupted next to his bed. Harry literally leaped upwards and hit his head against the staircase above him.

Standing (more crouching since he was a grown-up, and grown-ups don't fit very well into small closets) not a foot away from his cot was a red headed man holding a short, polished stick, and looking quite bewildered. Harry stared, wide-eyed, pressed as far back in his cupboard as possible without melting into the wall.

"Ah… hello there. You need to come with me straight away, I'm afraid it is a bit of an emergency."

Harry blinked up at the man owlishly. "How…?" People only appeared in strange places in fairy tales, and the last one he had read dealt with a particularly evil wizard. His green eyes narrowed.

The man blinked back. "Blimey, you've grown up a fair bit, haven't you now. I haven't see you in… six years." He collected himself and a stern expression was fixed on his face. "But we haven't the time; you need to come with me, Harry, to Hogwarts."

"How do you know my name?" the youngest and only Potter blurted, "And how did you get here? And what is Hogwarts? And what are you talking about?" If desperation had a range of pitches, they would be right on tune with Harry's voice. The boy was terribly confused and not afraid to let it be known.

"Ah, I suppose your aunt and uncle haven't explained apparition yet, which is perfectly understandable. Listen, Harry, I'll explain everything I can once we get to Hogwarts, but it is imperative that we go as soon as possible - you aren't safe here."

Harry set his jaw. Definitely not, he liked his cupboard, even if he didn't like the Dursleys', and he rather liked the spider who shared it with him. "No."

The man sighed, and gave a slight smile. "Now, Harry, I know your family must have taught you not to apparate with strangers, but this is an emergency." And for the first time, the man looked around. "And what are you doing in here? This isn't a safe place for a child to play at all - my boys did the same thing at your age, though, always getting themselves into places they shouldn't…"

Harry just stared. There really was nothing else for him to do - not a single word of what the man was saying made even a sliver of sense, and he quietly decided that he was one of those lunatics uncle Vernon was always raving about.

"Now," the man continued, apparently unaware of Harry's confused state, "all you have to do is…" the man stopped abruptly. "Is that a muggle contraption?" He pointed up at the light bulb with wide eyes. He was about to poke it when Harry shouted at him. "What?"

"It's hot," Harry said with all honesty. He had accidentally run into the bare hanging light bulb several times himself, and had a small burn on the back of his hand to prove it.

"Hot? It produces heat? How? And what is that funny little chain hanging down?"

Harry decided that the man really must be a lunatic, after all, who didn't know how to turn on and off a light bulb, or that after being on for a few hours, it was hot enough to burn. He shrugged politely. "Electricity, I think. And the chain is like a light switch…"

"Fascinating… and it stays on for as long as you want it to?"

"Well, yes, I suppose. Until it burns out."

"Right." The man apparently found his original, frantic train of thought and pulled his eyes away from the glowing bulb and proceeded to blink rabidly to reduce the blue spots in his vision. "Now then, we must be going. Just come along and grab hold of my hand." He stuck out a large hand adorned with hair the same red color as his head.

"Sorry, sir." The uncomfortable feeling that had receded during their light bulb talk had returned in full force and he was terrified to take the man's hand. He wasn't sure why, but he knew something would happen.

The man inhaled deeply. "I understand, however, this is for your own safety. I will not leave you here, Harry, if I do you will surely die." He grabbed the startled boy by the shoulder and pulled him close in to his own body, so close that Harry could have fit inside of his large overcoat. He then waved his polished stick, said an unfamiliar word, and the two of them, with _A Children's Guide to Ancient Egypt_ in hand, disappeared from number four, Private Drive, forever.

When Vernon Dursley came down stairs the next morning, he found an empty kitchen and an empty cupboard.

The next week, after a call from the elementary school, he was interviewed by the police, who quite poignantly asked why he had not reported his nephew missing. Vernon's response was to make an expression similar to that of a fish, and watch helplessly as they opened up the cupboard under the stairs.

A month after that, Vernon and his wife were charged with child abuse.

Five months after that, Harry Potter was forgotten.

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To Be Continued.

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_A.N._

Thank you for reading.

I hope to have an update by next week.

If you'd like to say something or notice an error you'd like me to correct, please leave me a review, or send me an e-mail.

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	2. 02 Confusion

**Reality Quicksand**

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A/N: Sorry for the long delay in an update, but hopefully this chapter will be worth the wait. I have an interesting long-term plan for this story, so please be patient, it will take a little getting into before the true crossover section of it all begins. The beginnings of the Stargate connection appear in this chapter and the real fun will be in chapter three and on. 

I would also like to address a very correct comment _Lady FoxFire_ made to me – that the time lines simply don't match up. To remedy this problem, I'm doing what many FanFiction authors do to fix their problems... altering the time lines. Thus, the Stargate opening will be shoved backwards a few years to around 1984 or 1985 to better coincide with our 1987 Harry Potter time line. Thus, this story will be taking place in the first few seasons of Stargate SG-1.

That said, thank you to everyone for sticking around, here's the next installment of...

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**Reality Quicksand**

**Chapter Two**

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Months before Vernon and Petunia Dursley were charged with child abuse, and Harry Potter was forgotten to the Muggle world, the Boy-Who-Lived, who had no idea of his world-saving status, appeared with a squelch as he and his red-headed escort disapparated into the shallows of the Great Lake. 

"Damn..." the red man who had been so enamored with the bare light bulb in his cupboard exclaimed, "the wards have slipped." And though poor little Harry had no idea of what the other man was speaking, he was right. The wards which would have normally kept any apparations going to the school as far away as the front gate were greatly diminished, now allowing anyone with a wand and an apparation license to get dangerously close to the legendary school.

Harry Potter stared half in absolute shock and half in utter nauseousness, his stomach rolling with the transdimentional travel he had just experienced. He had just been whisked, with not so much as a, "by your leave", across country boarders into a lake with a rather large squid staring at them. Harry stared back at it for a moment before letting out a terrified scream and latching himself onto the red man's left leg, careful to keep his picture book out of the water, though the task was made a great deal more difficult by the odd robes covering them. Now wholly soaked and frightened, seven-year-old Harry shivered in the water, unable to utter a word.

The man blinked. "I don't suppose you've ever seen a giant squid before then, eh?" He let a grin show beneath his blue eyes and freckles. "Now, don't you worry a bit, this little fellow wouldn't hurt a fly," and with that, the man scooped the boy (with a great deal of effort put into removing the the clenching hands from his calf) out from the water and into his arms. "Now, I don't believe we've properly met. I knew your parents, you see, and I haven't seen you since you were just a little tyke. My name is Arnold Weasley." The grin widened. "You are Harry Potter, I presume?"

Harry nodded his head mutely, his face white as a sheet and his eyes doing a wonderful impression of ping pong balls, although Arthur Weasley would have had no idea what they were should any Muggle have voiced their observation.

"Well, then, now that that's all settled, why don't we get indoors where it's a bit warmer and get you into something other than those awful play clothes, alright?"

Harry Potter's tongue finally loosened itself from the roof of his mouth as the shock wore off his undersized system. "What was that!? How did you do that? Where did my cupboard go? Why are we in a lake? What happened to the jelly fish? Go where? What are wards? Why are you dressed funny? Why is your hair red? I saw on the Tele that kidnappers get put in jail for a really long time..." When he finally ran out of breath to ask questions, Harry Potter found the large adult who was holding him staring down at him, just as wide eyed as the boy had been before.

Then, suddenly, Arthur let out a great laugh, a bubbling one that shook the boy in his arms. "Let the world never forget, Harry, that you are as normal a child as they come."

Harry, who had no idea what the funny looking man was talking about, simply glared at him, very miffed at having not even one of his questions answered. He huffed, but despite his kidnapper accusation to the man, he burrowed himself further into the robust, red-haired arms.

It was the first time, in his remembered years, that Harry Potter had been held.

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As Arthur Weasley was walking the two of them to the Hogwarts castle, Albus Dumbledore had called an emergency meeting with his staff. The Order of the Phoenix had been called as well, but the elderly wizard held no false aspirations that his six-years-out-of-work soldiers for the light would be able to make it in time. 

The headmaster for the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood and addressed his professors and staff, minus a certain Severus Snape, in a calm manor seeming completely normal save for the lack of twinkle in his blue eyes.

"My dear friends," he started, wishing for perhaps the first time in his life that he were just a few years younger, "I'm afraid I have terrible news." The man who was known for his taste in candy as much for his accomplishments in wizardry looked down at his co-workers sadly. "The fight that we thought ended six years ago is not quite as finished as we thought." Dozens of eyes stared up at him, not wanting do draw conclusions from his speech. But conclusions had to be drawn, despite the awfulness of them, and Albus pushed forward. His voice rang clear through the Great Hall where they were gathered, making grown and aged professors look not unlike first years lined up for their sorting.

"Voldemort has returned."

The Great Hall was silent for just under four seconds before it erupted into a storm of movement. Words were gushed at speeds never before recorded and jaws dropped to new lows.

"What? How!?"

"He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named..."

"But the Boy-Who-Lived...?"

Hushed whispers escalated to full out shouts. Dumbledore let the chaos exist for another twenty seconds before he raised his hands, rings and all, and slowly, quietly, let out a, "Shhh..."

The Hall was silenced immediately. "This is not the time to panic. I have sent out Arthur Weasley to get Harry Potter," another murmur bubbled up from the crowd of adults, but was again silenced with a look from the elderly headmaster, "and I have a plan set for their safety. Now it is us we must worry about."

Under the enchanted ceiling and floating candles which cast false calm on the populations below, numerous confused gazes met with each other. Hogwarts was safe, wasn't it? It's wards were among the most powerful in the wizarding world.

"The wards are receding, and I have reason to believe that Death Eaters are marching even as we speak to attack Hogwarts."

Dead silence. Minnerva McGonogal, who had stood behind the headmaster to this point, stepped to his right. "We must be organized," she stated in her clear voice that commanded just as much respect from them as from any of her Transfiguration students. "Not a single mistake can be tolerated."

While Minnerva reiterated the plan to the staff on Hogwart's part in the coming battle, Albus slipped from the Hall and quickly made his way to the Hospital Wing, his normally short, bouncy strides replaced with strong ones that would have put any other man his age to envy.

"Severus," he called out loudly upon his entry. The man in question lay upon one of the many cots lined up in the long room, but sat up quickly upon hearing his name.

"Albus! What is going on? My arm... Voldemort?" The normally eloquent Severus Snape was paler than usual and his long winded sentences reduced to chopped, shocked fragments.

"Yes. What ever it is that you fear, it has happened. Voldemort has returned." The headmaster closed the distance between them and quickened his pace as the sky darkened through the large windows. Lighting struck a nearby tree and thunder groaned in the sky. "The wards are receding and we have precious little time."

The pale man's eyes closed and he gave forth a shiver. "Albus, I don't know how any of this has happened, but he's found me out as a spy as well." A quick flash of pain washed over his face as the magical tattoo on his arm pulsed an angry red and sent spasms through his nervous system.

Rain began to fall, first tiny, hard droplets, and then in thick sheets.

Dumbledore's arm came to rest on the younger potions master's shoulder and the pale man shifted awkwardly. "That only makes my plan all the more fitting. I have a mission for you, my child, a long term mission."

Coal eyes looked at him blankly.

"I'm sending you to America, to a small cottage in Colorado I purchased years ago should a situation like this ever arise." Dumbledore paused, letting the information set in, and also to let Severus recover from another dark spasm. "The distance between you and the Dark Lord should make the pain easier to bear, and ..." Blue eyes met black just as another lightning bolt zinged through the atmosphere. "I'm sending Harry Potter with you."

Thunder soon followed.

And, just before Arthur Weasley burst through Hogwart's small door connected to the Hospital Wing carrying a small, wet, Harry Potter in his arms, Severus Snape erupted.

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**End Chapter Two**

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A/N/:  I have more written, so expect another chapter up soon. 

Again, thank you for being patient with me - it is much appreciated. If you have anything to add or simply want to drop a line, please review or leave me a message and I'll try to respond in kind.

**T.B.C.**


	3. 03 Interuption

**Reality Quicksand **

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Well, despite my best efforts to the contrary, I'm a slow updater. It's just how I am. But slow or not, I do update, and I tried to make this chapter a bit longer to make up for it. I'd just like to thank everyone who took time out of their day to review, I tried my best to respond to all of them, and they really were lovely to read – it is always nice to know that support exists.

That said, here is the next installment of…

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**Reality Quicksand**

**Chapter Three**

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Arthur Weasley clutched the boy-who-lived closer to his chest as the two of them made their way to Hogwarts. Rain began to fall from dark clouds, and the red haired man picked up his pace. The soaked boy was attached to him like a leech, a muggle children's book held carefully above the sopping mass of too big clothing he was dressed in. Despite the discomfort the boy was feeling, Harry Potter was careful not to say a word. Complaining was always something that had upset the Dursley's, and the red man (Arthur Weasley, he reminded himself) seemed rather nice - he didn't want to upset a potential friend. And as soon as Harry thought this, he scowled to himself. He was still quite miffed that none of his questions had been answered and that he had been taken away from his eight legged, silk weaving companion with out permission. Vernon was bound to be very, very angry. Not to mention, who would cook the toast?

"You doing alright there, Harry?" Arthur asked, smiling as always.

Harry scrunched his nose up from under his glasses. The rain water was dissolving the tape connecting one lens to the other and they were slowly drooping away from his face and over his nose, shaping a triangle, but he was loath to let go of either the red man or his book to push them back together. He humphed and turned his face away, making faces at the clouds that were the cause of all his problems. Arthur, in turn, let out a tiny smile, also turning away so that the boy wouldn't see it. Children, he decided, were all alike.

"Well, Harry, we're almost there. What have you heard about Hogwarts from your aunt and uncle?"

Harry turned from his cloud glaring to stare up at the man, his confused gaze made hilarious by his slouching eyeglasses. "Nothing. What's a Hogwarts? That's a very funny name." His recently unscrunched nose began to wrinkle again.

Arthur gave a laugh. It was a hearty thing, and it shook Harry as the larger man's chest heaved up and down. "Well, it is a bit of a strange name. It's a school. The one your parents went to, actually. That's funny they didn't mention it... you'll be going there in a few years..." the man trailed off, and all the laughter left him.

"My parents!?" The rain was forgotten as Harry straightened in the man's arms, his wide eyes looking owlish beneath the large black frames. "They went to school here? Were they smart? Did they become doctors and firefighters and astronaut?"

"Yes, your father was a Quidich pro, and your mother was a very smart woman." But Arthur's mood could not be salvaged. "We're almost there, I'm sure all you're questions will be answered by Albus." Hogwarts' future looked grim, and the red haired man didn't want to dwell on it. Would his Ron be going to Durmstrongs? He shuddered. And little Ginny?

Harry managed to grasp the situation and bit his tongue to refrain from asking who or what an Albus was. He had lived an eternity (in his child's mind) with the Durslesy's, and he knew quite well what a bad mood felt like, and he also knew quite well it was best to keep ones mouth shut during one.

The pair made their way to Hogwart's, avoiding the front entrances like the plague. Instead, they walked to a hidden door of the Hospital Wing, used only for medical emergencies completely necessary pranks. The vine covered door was quite well blended into the honey colored bricks of the castle, and only when one was looking for the door, were the enchantments hiding it dissolved. After much squinting, an old doorknob revealed itself. Arthur set Harry down and swept aside the green strands and turned the knob meeting little resistance. The door swung open and the father of seven lead the two of them in from the pouring rain to the Hospital Wing... to have their ears, now pelted with rain and deafened by thunder, assaulted with the very irritated voice of a bedridden potions master.

"What do you mean!? America!? THAT boy!? Albus..." The room shook with every word... or perhaps that was the shrinking wards that let the imminence of the situation be felt as the Death Eaters marching were allowed closer and closer to the castle.

The boy in question was torn between sticking his head out in curiosity and hiding, as he was, behind Arthur, a blob of wet, thin cloth behind thick (mostly) black robes that veiled his presence quite nicely. Hiding won. Arthur advanced them through a small corridor and into the main of the Hospital Wing, worry etched onto his face. He had not questioned his mission to retrieve Harry Potter, but he had believed it was to relocate Harry to Hogwarts, or at least into Dumbledore's care should the castle's defenses falter. But the sound of Severus Snape's voice was quite difficult to confuse with another, and as they walked (dripping and smearing water every which way over the tile as they went) his pale form could be seen thrashing about on one of the Wing's many cots, the old and bearded Albus sitting far too calmly at his side.

"Ah! Arthur, wonderful. I was hopping you'd arrive soon." Albus' twinkle had returned, and it sent both men to wincing. "And is that young Harry Potter I see hiding back there...?"

Harry poked his head out from behind the wet robes, his eyeglasses drooping more than ever. "Are you an Albus?"

"Why, yes, my child. I am an Albus. My name is Albus Dumbledore, in fact. I run this school." Blue eyes sparkled and Harry was drawn out from his hiding and now stood in the open of the Hospital Wing between the silently seething Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore. "And you are going to go on a very special trip." The black lump on the bed grunted.

The magical state Harry had been drawn into was abruptly shattered. "Go somewhere...? I want to go home! I _liked_ my spider, and my cupboard, and ... and... And making toast! And I was going to get another book on Monday from Mr. Felsp - I'm almost done with this one..." The strained eye wear too this opportunity to detach completely from Harry's face and plummet to the ground with a clatter, black rims split open and glass circles chinking against tile. Harry, just as strained as his now ruined glasses, broke down into tears. Arthur reached down and placed a hairy red hand on the boy's shoulder and watched with alarm as the child flinched away and took a step backwards. "I just want to go home..."

Severus Snape watched this display with disgust, a scowl set quite firmly upon his face, though it was interrupted every few seconds as a spasm of Dark Mark induced pain flushed through his arm and coursed through his body. Immediately after, the scowl resettled, deeper than ever. Somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he took the image of the flinching Potter boy and stored it away, however unconscious of the act he currently was, a small piece of him saw that somehow, it was important. However, his waking mind currently ruled, and nothing but contempt sat in his consciousness. In the lull of important conversation he found his voice. "Well, that's settled then. The boy wants to go home; no need to deprive the little newt of his no doubt adoring family... and spider." Severus spat every word with as much poison as humanly possible, and the crying child did the strangest thing. Instead of crying more (which was a fully expected and, in fact, desired result from such verbal abuse as the potions master was accustomed to dishing out day after day) Harry stopped his tears completely, carefully closing off his sniffling face.

"Now, Severus," Arthur began, quite upset himself at seeing all that was going on, being a father himself, "Harry can't go home. There were Death Eaters on their way even as we left. I'm sure Albus can take care of him here at the castle..." He looked up hopefully, desperately, at the elderly man.

The old headmaster gave a secretive smile. "Oh no, I'm afraid you're right, Arthur, Harry can't go home. However he can't stay here at the castle either. I am sending him with Severus," he motioned to the sheet covered man, "to America. It will be lovely, won't it my boy."

There was dead silence in the Wing, a look of panic on Arthur's face. "What!? Molly and I can take him in; it's plenty safe at the burrow! Ron will love having someone his age-"

"Listen to him, Albus! Send me away if you like, but don't saddle me with that brat! I'll never-"

Both men were simultaneously interrupted by a now stern looking Albus Dumbledore. "The decision is as stands. In fact, "blue eyes twinkled as blue eyes never should, "I've taken the liberty to pack your bags, Severus."

The potions master gawked at him, his face paling by the second. "But ..." the names of several decidedly dangerous potions and fragile ingredients came to the forefront of his mind along with a few questionable books and slightly illegal things tucked in the back of his quarters.

Albus winked at him. "I do believe I managed to pack everything you'll need."

Severus' jaw snapped shut. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"Of course, I've made arrangements for Harry's things to be sent too. After all, child," he smiled at the still frozen boy sniffling between the triangle of adults, "you can't live off of only one book."

Harry cocked his head. "But I haven't got any other books, this is-"

"Now now, no time to chat, I've got the portkey all lined up. Severus, if you're feeling able, please take the lead."

Severus wanted to inform the pompous man that he was not feeling able, but the words lodged in his throat and he mutely jerked his head in a motion that could be called confirmation. Or a muscle spasm, Arthur thought as he watched the proceedings with panic welling up inside him. The boy-who-lived being sent off to live in a foreign country with a man who hated the child's father and all children in general!? It was utter madness! Albus Dumbledore wasn't a man to have things go any way but his way, and in this case, it was proving to be problematic. "Are you sure, Albus, you know Molly-"

A quick motion of his ringed hand and Arthur Weasley's mouth was zipped shut in a silent_ silencio_ spell. Well, I'll be Merlin's sock, (Arthur silently thought to himself) Albus has truly gone off the deep end - more so than usual. We're doomed.

Severus, thinking things very much along the same lines, gritted his teeth (partially in pain and partially in resolve that unless he did this willingly, the deranged and brilliant headmaster would through him into the portkey without his precious potions supplies) and roughly grabbed Harry's wrist in one hand and a questionably clean sock in the other.

Harry, wide eyed, not able to see anything clearly, and completely confused, clutched onto his picture book and bit the man's hand for all his teeth were worth.

Severus hissed in pain and looked over to Albus in shock.

Albus simply smiled. "The password is Anubis, and remember -"

"ANUBIS!" And with a whoosh, the two pained and frightened beings were sucked from Hogwarts and deposited in Colorado Springs.

Albus blinked, and looked over to Arthur. "Now I've gone and forgot what I was going to warn them about..."

If possible, the Weasley father's eye's widened even further in his silenced state.

"Oh well, I'm sure it wasn't important..."

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**tbc**

* * *

Just when things are getting interesting... 

If you notice any glaring errors or simply want to leave a critique, please review and make my day. I'll do my best to respond – All reviews are appreciated and I feel it's only fair that the time you spend reviewing is acknowledged and thanked.

Updates, if you hadn't gathered this yet, are sporadic, but I do my best.

Until next time! Thank you for your support!


	4. 04 Delay

**Reality Quicksand **

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After longer then some of you would like and far too soon for others, I have managed an update. Again, I am not a fast updater and I make no promises for the future. I do, however, try my best.

Thank you again to everyone who reviewed - I know it can seem like a waste of time but it is so helpful and wonderful to the author to see what others think and that readers do in fact exist. I would appriciate it if you took just a minute out of your day to tell me what you thought, good or bad.

This chapter is a bit of a filler, but I had lots of fun with it despite that. :) Hopefully you'll feel the same way.

The next chapter will have a bit more in the way of plot.

* * *

**Reality Quicksand**

**Chapter Four**

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Unlike intercontinental portkeys, transcontinental ones (at least ones to America) required a brief stop at what was the equivalent of a muggle customs check. Severus Snape, former Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry now ex-Death Eater on the run, appeared in the New York Apparation and Transportation Center with one Harry Potter attached to his hand through a set of very hard teeth. Sock clutched in the other hand, he quickly set the boy apart from him.

The NYATC was actually not much more then a large circular room, floating glass and mirrors making up makeshift walls for tiny customs cubicles around the circumference of the place leaving no way to exit other then by following a blinking golden globe to an overly cheerful witch sitting in one of the tiny glass spaces just waiting for someone to come through with bribe money or illegal potions or simply something that would make this day a bit less mundane then the six hundred and some days before it. Like all customs stations, it was magically insulated and any attempt to apparate or portkey out of it would result in either an addition to New York's air pollution problem as your body was splinched beyond recognition into the smog cover, or your arrest by a strange combination of the country's wizarding and muggle police. Splinching was preferable.

"Potter!"

The boy, now glaring at him and clutching his picture book to him with equal vehemence, stilled.

"I will not tolerate anything other then complete respect! Understood?" He barked it out, sending seething glances to those witches and wizards to slowed their stride to stare wide eyed at the blustering man.

Harry swallowed. "Yes, sir."

And Severus Snape let a slow, small smirk settle onto his face. A Potter... calling him 'sir'. It had a certain ring. "Very good. Now come along. We need to get out of this..." he wrinkled his nose at the passing group of witches, all blathering in a New Jersey accent, "place... as soon as possible." Why, oh why, did Albus choose America. It could have been Iceland, he wouldn't have minded. Russia was nice this time of year. Even the perky southern France would have been acceptable... but America! Filled to the brim with wayward witches and wizards who had escaped the hunts and burnings of England (only to find their own in the new world...) had become steadily more strange in their isolation from the wizarding community. There was, he was sure, not a single pureblood among the whole of the United States. Many of them, in fact (he shuddered), had gone against every fiber of sanity and told muggles about themselves. Severus grit his teeth.

These thoughts running loose in his mind he set a quick pace towards the many blinking globes hanging down from the NYATC's positively disgusting ceiling. It was, like most things in America, terribly new, and it shown a bright silver, the globes reflecting in it and dancing all over the expansive entry room where all around them people of every sort and nationality apparated and portkeyed in, all managing not to land on each-other in the large room.

It was not until he was halfway to a smiling blonde witch with a twitching quill that he noticed Harry Potter was not following him. The portkey sock still being squeezed to death in his left hand, Severus Snape whirled on his heal to stare into the mass of moving bodies, all far too colorful. Damn that stupid boy! Couldn't even follow a simple instruction... what had the boy been wearing again? Oh yes, some sort of brown muggle monstrosity. Suddenly, the said muggle monstrosity jumped out at him and he saw it and the boy standing stock still in the center of the moving mass of people.

"Po-" Damn. He had often cursed the boy's fame, but now he had yet another reason to do so - he couldn't even yell at him in public. Granted, Harry Potter's fame in the United States was a great deal less, the plight of Voldemort's first near reign nearly unknown to them and Harry Potter even less so, but he couldn't guarantee that several of the busy, stately looking men and women flitting about weren't Ministry officials on holiday or something more sinister in disguise. And without another child named 'Harry' since the boy-who-lived's title came into use, that was out of the question as well.

So, with little else as an option, Severus Snape strode purposefully forward to the still lump of brown material from which a black unruly head popped out, calling, "boy!" to him as he walked. "Boy, are you so incompetent as to not be able to follow a very simple set of directions?" As Severus advanced, the child seemed to shrink, the over sized brown shirt that he thought was not supposed to be a robe (though it was certainly large enough) swallowed the child up as tiny shoulders began to shake. Severus would have completed the final step to close the distance to him, would have towered over the child more then he already did in his menacing but tidy black robes that dwarfed the boy in every way possible, but a positively rude American who couldn't mind his own business pulled roughly on his shoulder.

"Hey now, no need to scare the kid. He's probably just overwhelmed, aren't ya kid-o? Ever been to NYATC before?"

The man, in sharp contrast to Severus' pristine and starched black robes, was dressed in a pair of muggle pants and what appeared to be (Severus resisted the urge to retch) a Hawaiian tee shirt with an American cowboy had perched on his head. His accent was drawling and the Potions Master's already grinding teeth dug further into themselves.

Harry stared up at the man, wide eyed, and shook his head so much that it was magic in and of itself that it didn't simply fall off. "No, sir, I would really like to go hom-"

"Ya see," the man said to Severus, "Kids just don't take to apparating right away, is all, ya got to take it slow with 'em." He ruffled Harry's hair in a way that was supposed to be comforting, but was rather abrasive, and after a few seconds of it, he ducked underneath the large hand to stand awkwardly between the American and Severus.

Severus, in light of the growing audience they were getting, bit back (with great difficulty) the string of insults he was compiling, and gave a pained smile instead. "Yes, thank... you." Oh how much it hurt to say that. "Now," he said very, very slowly, and if the stupid American listened, he would realize, very dangerously, "we have much to do."

The man, beneath his flamboyant cowboy hat, grinned at him and clapped him intrusively on the shoulder several times, to which the Potions Master remained complete ridged. "Of course!" he cried far too loudly, "of course." He paused to look down at Harry and give him what was supposed to be a reassuring wink. "Y'all have a good day now, ya hear?"

Severus closed his eyes and concentrated on not pulling out his wand and removing the man's tongue.

"Oh!"

Bat's liver! Would the man never leave?

"Y'all should go see Betty, she's the little lady over there," he pointed with a long, hairy arm to a short plump woman in one of the floating glass and mirror cubicles that was the furthest away from them. Severus glared. The man winked. "She's the best, Anubis says so."

And with that, the American managed to disappear into the crowd, cowboy hat and all.

Caught between scowling even more and bashing his head into one of the floating glass panes, he mentally cursed Albus Dumbledore. If this wasn't his deluded sense of humor, he didn't know what was. "Damn you, Albus..." But there was no denying it. Even the boy's head perked up when the annoying man had said the strange word, 'Anubis'. It meant nothing to Severus, other then the password to the portkey, but some part of his forgotten memory sparked at it - it did mean something, even if he wasn't aware of it.

"Sir..."

Severus glared at Potter.

"Spit it out, boy, I don't have time for your stuttering," he said ruthlessly as he pulled the boy along by his elbow towards 'Betty'.

The boy blushed and ducked his head, practically jogging to keep up with the black robed man's full grown and fast paced legs. "Never mind..."

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. God he hated children - all the same. All wanting attention but doing nothing to merit it. The duo, Snape practically dragging Harry, made it to the plump customs agent, after batting their way through the mess of incoming and scampering wizards and witches, looking as haggard and out of place as they felt (in Harry's case, dazed and rather kidnapped).

"Hello! My name is Betty Peterson and I'm going to be your customs guide today. How are you enjoying NYATC so far, sir?"

Severus blinked and let his scowl deepen. "We haven't the time for silly pleasantries, woman-"

The woman, Betty, continued unabated, glazed eyes looking at neither of them, but rather the array of floating orbs leading lost travelers to their cubicles and beyond. "Of course, sir, I'm glad you find it so welcoming, we're rather proud of it ourselves."

He blinked again and looked carefully at Harry. The boy was giving her the same look one would give to a squished, dancing spider, that is, morbid curiosity and confusion. Severus had to agree with him on that one. Had she been confounded? Or was she honestly that stupid? He shuddered.

"Yes... we're traveling to ..." he wracked his brain for the city Dumbledore had said.

"Colorado Springs." The plump woman, who wore, like all the customs agents, a tacky uniform robe of gold which was slightly reflective (rather like the whole building) and did nothing to help her figure. She smiled widely and emptily at him. "Yes, yes..."

Merlin's beard! Albus could have just given me all the information, Severus internally griped, but no, he'd rather play chess with the American customs agency.

"I'll just need to see your paperwork, sir."

He winced every so slightly and prepared to pull out his wand. He had no qualms with wiping her memory (it seemed it had happened a few too many times already anyhow, one of the dangers of the job, he supposed) but he was less keen on getting caught in a foreign country with the Potter brat as a liability. The American muggle and wizarding police were notorious for their very thoroughly done jobs, almost as notorious as the Death Eaters for their own.

"Well, sir, it appears all your paper work is in perfect order." Neither of them had moved an inch and her tacky gold robe shifted as she pulled out a rubber stamp from a hidden drawer in the cubicle's desk and, quite proficiently, stamped at the empty air in front of her. The desk, quite obviously missing their non existent paperwork, shuttered under her meaty and rather insane hand. She turned her head up to look at them, though her eyes stayed on the floating orbs. "Thank you so much for traveling through NYATC, we appreciate your business and your willingness to comply with federal wizarding regulations. Please step through the door to your left and continue your journey by apparation or by renewing your portkey. If you need other transportation, broom rental is three doors down on your right..."

The brainless woman continued her speech as they quickly departed through the fore-mentioned door, not wanting to push their luck any further. The boy deliberately shrank his steps and dragged his feet as they went, becoming slightly hysterical as Severus pulled him along.

"I don't want to go! I don't! I want to go home..."

"Shut your confounded mouth!"

"But I don't even know who you are! I want to go home!"

This statement caused several concerned mothers with children of their own to throw their heads about and stare at him with wide eyes. He attempted to give them reassuring smiles though they looked more like hyena grins to the now scowling adults.

Severus wanted to scream, he really did. Grabbing the boy harder he pointedly ignored the now worriedly talking women and pressed his fingers into the sock. "Anubis!"

And for the second time in as many hours Severus Snape and Harry Potter where whirled away by their navels to the far away Colorado Springs where, waiting on a grassy hill for their arrival, stood a magically animated (more then usual that is) duck with a bit of parchment rolled up in his bill.

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**tbc**

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Thank you for reading - the next chapter will be a bit more interesting and will finally get into the crossover portion of the story. Finally, huh?

I'd love it if you could leave a review and let me know what you think. Criticism and praise are welcome alike.

Until next time.


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